


Hearts and Hems

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Crossdressing, M/M, really really tame crossdressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe next time I can get you in a dress." he joked, or at least John thought it was a joke.  He was surprised to realize that it really didn't bother him either way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts and Hems

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this with a fever and snot dribbling out of my nose like a faucet so forgive me if its a little suspect, haha  
> 

Dave had been planning it for weeks, but John was still feeling a bit apprehensive as he shifted from foot to foot in front of his boyfriend's door. He barely had time to let himself in before Dave was tugging him off towards the bathroom, razor in his hand and shaving cream in the other, and for a moment John wondered if it was too late to bail.

The look of genuine excitement on Dave's face, though, and the way his lips were twitching up into an grin was enough for John to shove any second thoughts to the back of his mind. This was something that his boyfriend cared about; something that he usually buried underneath dozens of layers of faux-irony as an excuse to do what he actually enjoyed. He was letting John in, and he'd be dumb to turn down a chance like this.

Even if it was something as outlandish as cross dressing.

The razor felt cold and foreign against his skin, and John watched with fascination as the blade effortlessly glid across the skin on his legs. The entire ordeal only took five minutes, and he swung his feet over the edge of the bathtub once they were done to slide a hand up his shin, eyes wide.

"Holy shit, my legs feel like dolphins." he breathed, and Dave chuckled, setting the razor down next to the sink and tapping his shoulder.

"Quit gaping, you doofus; we haven't even started yet." Dave said, and John nodded, getting to his feet and following the blonde into his bedroom. He sat down gingerly on the edge of Dave's mattress as his boyfriend rummaged through his closet, occasionally tossing a tube of lip gloss or a bottle of nail polish in John's general direction. Eventually, he turned around, holding two different sweaters up side by side, raising an eyebrow.

"Which one do you want?" he asked, and John shrugged.

"I dunno. The one with the pawprints?" he replied, feeling a bit out of his depth. Dave nodded, muttering something under his breath about the color of the fabric "making his eyes pop". As he waited, John ran his hands over his legs again, unable to get over how smooth his skin was.

Dave sat down next to him five minutes later, sitting cross-legged on the sheets with his hands out in front of him.

"What?" John blinked, bewildered.

"Hands." Dave stated, rolling his eyes.

John pinked, feeling stupid as he placed his palms in Dave's and watched as he twisted the cap off a nearby bottle of light blue nail polish.

"Ever gotten your nails done before?" Dave asked, dobbing blue polish onto John's thumb.

"Can't say I have." John giggled. The sensation of the cold polish against his fingernails was strange, but not entirely unwelcome.

While they waited for the first coat to dry, Dave ran a hairbrush through his boyfriend's hair in an attempt to tame it, brushing the curly black locks back and pinning them in place with hello kitty barrettes.

"Where'd you get all this stuff, anyways?" John asked, holding a hand up to his face to examine the way the blue reflected the light. He really hoped Dave had nail polish remover, though; however great his hands looked, he really didn't want to have to go in to school on Monday with glittery fingernails and no decent excuse.

Dave shrugged. "Most of this shit can be bought at your average drug-store, babe." He glanced over at the navy blue sweater John had chosen. "And if it didn't come from there, it probably came from some online shop somewhere."

John opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the lip gloss Dave was applying to his lips. He made a face, feeling it rest slimy and cold on his mouth, but didn't complain.

"What am I wearing on the bottom, dude?" he asked, eventually. There wasn't a pair of pants or even a skirt, as far as John could see.

Dave's cheeks pinked, the freckles across the bridge of his nose standing out against the blush on his face. "I was thinking these," he said, reaching behind him to pull out a pair of white and light blue striped thigh highs, "under this." he finished, producing another article of clothing from behind him. It was indeed a skirt, and a short one at that.

John fought back the heat rising to his cheeks and nodded, then tugged at the hem of his slimer shirt pointedly. "Shouldn't I change now?" he asked.

"Yeah, here." Dave tossed him the sweater. It was a lot heavier than John had expected it to be, and also a lot softer. The wool was a navy blue and darker blue paw prints trailed down the right side of it. Pulling his shirt over his head and wiggling into it, the sleeves came down past his knuckles. Dave was actually smaller than he was, so he assumed that the sweater was meant to be over-sized; the hem of the sweater came down to his thighs. He was passed the skirt and thigh highs a few moments later, and hesitated before slipping them on.

"Turn around." John said, embarrassed.

"Not like I haven't seen you in your tighty-whities before, dude."

"You're about to make me put on a fucking miniskirt, Dave. The least you can do is turn around." John snapped, mortified. Dave's lips twitched down almost imperceptibly and shit, he felt like he'd just kicked a puppy.

He tried again. "...I mean, I'm just embarrassed, that's all? You can watch if you want." he said, guilty.

Dave's eyes lit up again, and he watched intently as John fumbled sliding on the thigh highs, freckled cheeks more than slightly red when he slid on the miniskirt. He got to his feet once John was done, nodding in approval.

"Nice." he remarked. "One last thing before I lead you to the mirror, though."

Grabbing an eyelash curler its previous position atop the sheets, Dave closed the distance between the two of them, cupping John's face in his hands. "Don't blink."

John let out a squeak when the metal trinket clamped down on his lashes, but stayed still, trying his best not to flinch away. Once he was done, Dave moved back a few steps, hands on his hips and a grin on his face.

"You look fanfuckingtastic, babe." he stated.

John tilted his head, skeptical. "You mentioned something about a mirror?"

Muttering a "hold on", Dave went back to rummage through his closet, emerging a few seconds later with a full body mirror, holding it out in front of him to give John a clear view.

Damn.

He was hardly recognizable.

The John in the mirror was uniquely feminine; it was clear that Dave's objective had not been for him to pass for a girl, but it was enough to make him look enticing.

Desirable, actually.

The only way John could phrase it was that he felt pretty.

He raised a hand up to the barrettes in his hair, tracing over the plastic, blown away.

"Woah." he breathed out.

Dave smirked from behind the mirror, although his posture suggested that he was nervous. "Like what you see?" he asked.

John nodded slowly, staring wide eyed at his reflection. "This is amazing. You're really good at this, Dave."

Dave's shoulders relaxed in relief, and his smile was no longer as tight. "Maybe next time I can get you in a dress." he joked, or at least John thought it was a joke. He was surprised to realize that it really didn't bother him either way.

"No promises." John chuckled, just to make it hard on him. He tore his eyes away from the mirror to see Dave in his normal attire; skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. "It's not fair if you're not dolled up too, dude." he said.

Dave grinned a little wider, the happiest John had seen him in weeks, and propped the mirror up against the wall to dig through his closet again.

John sat down on his boyfriend's mattress, played with the hem of his sweater, and decided that he could get used to this.


End file.
